Fickle Feelings
by Demosthenes23
Summary: Weeks after The Blind Pig incident, George and Emily attempt to get down to the root of their relationship woes.
1. Chapter 1

It was a lovely September afternoon; nary a cloud could be seen, nor a hint of foreboding weather. The streets were filled with laughter, music, and the occasional delightful whiff of something scrumptious.

George and Emily were out for a stroll in the park. They passed many a couple arm and arm, who were smiling and conversing pleasantly with one another. George and Emily were attempting none of these things. Emily had been freezing him out for months now and it was only very recently that he had become aware of this. His blind infatuation - dare he say love? - had shielded him from the ugly truth of the matter. But when the evidence had been right in front of his eyes, it had been rather hard to ignore. Clearly Emily's attentions had been drawn to another and it seemed impossible to reclaim them; in vain had he repeatedly tried. By now George had all but given up and yet something had possessed him to ask her to go on this walk today and stranger still, she had agreed!

Since she had been all but avoiding him these past few weeks, he assumed she had finally come around, come back to him and they could commence where they had left off. So when she refused to take his arm and would barely even look at him, he was exceedingly puzzled and hurt. George was angry at himself for falling into this well worn trap again and as such he refused to be the first one to break the chilling silence. Swirling thoughts and sinking mood prevented him from enjoying the beautiful day before them, further increasing his resentment towards her.

Finally he couldn't take it any more and his resolve broke.

"Why did you come Emily?" he snapped. "If you were just going to be as silent as the grave, there seems little point!"

She glared at him. "I could ask you the same thing, George! You've been abominably rude to me!"

"_Me_, rude?!" he exclaimed incredulous, halting their forward progress. "You wouldn't even accept my arm!"

"Am I so incompetent as to be incapable of staying upright on my own?"

"Of course not! But that wasn't my point! You won't talk to me! You won't even look at me! You-"

"Stop making such a spectacle of yourself," she cut in, glancing around at the curious passersby. "It is most undignified."

"Fine," he fumed deeply. "Have it your way, Emily."

George proceeded to move away from her but she called him back and he turned to face her once more; impatiently waiting. She gestured to a large elm tree and they moved off of the stoney path and under its shade and the scrutiny of others. They sat down across from one another.

She sighed and then looked him in the eyes. "I'm sorry, George." Not sure where this was heading and not daring to hope he waited some more. "I'm sorry that I've been so distant lately. It was never my intention. I take full responsibility for this untenable situation. For you see, I should never have allowed this farce to continue as long as it did."

Despite his best efforts, those words stung him to the core. Not trusting himself to speak, he remained mute. She tried to take his hand but he unconsciously recoiled.

"You were always very kind to me and I betrayed that kindness time and time again. I see that now." Somewhat begrudgingly she added, "Julia has made me see it...amongst other things."

Still he didn't know what to say.

"I've been a coward, afraid to face the truth. And the truth is," - she paused abruptly here as if she were planning on saying one thing but then changing her mind, -"the truth is we are simply incompatible with one another on any real romantic level. Almost like brother and sister. Surely you have noticed?"

He nodded jerkily. "I've tried-"

She raised a hand. "I know. I really do." Somewhat timidly she continued with, "Haven't you wondered why I have been avoiding you so frequently?"

George scowled. "Leslie Garland," he spat out with some acid.

"Leslie?" she asked, apparently confused.

This pitiful display served to infuriate him further.

"Don't trifle with me, Emily. I know you have eyes for that...scoundrel."

"Why would you think that?"

How much of a fool did she take him for?

"Because I saw you together!" he exploded. "At The Blind Pig! You were hardly subtle!"

Uncharacteristically she sighed anew. "I admit that in my desperation to avoid my" - again she stopped talking and hastily continued in a different vein - "It wasn't what it looked like. I mean, it _was_, but it wasn't. What it comes down to is that I...I deluded myself into believing that I was other than I am. Again." Looking up hopefully, "Do you understand?"

"No!" he exclaimed incredulously. "I most certainly do not! Speak plainly!"

"As you wish." Eyes darting all over the place she said very softly, slightly tremulously. "George, I am a...sapphist."

The whispered word went in one ear and straight out the other.

"What?" he said bluntly. "You're a what?"

"You don't understand the meaning of the word?" she asked helplessly.

"No, I understand perfectly," he replied, slowly, befuddled. "But it doesn't make any sense all the same."

Tentatively, "I know it's a bit of a shock-"

"That's putting it mildly! We courted for over a year! You were engaged for crying out loud!"

"_Engaged_, George, but I couldn't go through with the marriage. At the time I simply had vague doubts...no certainty as to why the match would not do. Mostly I chalked it all up to Jerome's capricious will. However, the reason is quite...obvious to me now."

He was silent for a time. "How could you _not_ know sooner?"

Another sigh. "Part of me did, I have no doubt. But a larger part wanted to pretend that I was...normal."

"And since when have you ever cared about that?" She raised an eyebrow. "Emily, you cut up dead bodies all day long! Hardly what I'd call _normal_ behaviour."

"Exactly my point, George. I was already shunned by society as a bit of a novelty when I started medical school. Hard as I tried, I never really belonged there. My...proclivities were not going to make my life any easier, should they be known, if only to myself. Which is why I chose to become a pathologist instead of a regular doctor. This way I could attempt to avoid undesirable human interactions...and consequently my true nature." She stared at him closely. "And this tactic worked for a time but then you started paying me undue attentions and I thought maybe...maybe things would be different this time." Looking away, "But they weren't."

"So I was a-a morgue rat?" he said heatedly. "And nothing else?"

"No, of course not, George," she said trying to take his hand again. Again he pulled away. "You were a great friend to me when I most needed it. I'll be forever grateful for that. And I _do_ have feelings for you still...but they are only of the familial kind. I'm afraid I'm not capable of loving you in any other way."

Another awkward silence. "I wish you had figured this out sooner, Emily," he lamented again. "Now..."

"Now, what, George?" He glanced sideways as tears threatened to spill forth.

"Now I'm forever doomed to love a...ghost."

"Don't say that, George," she said this time successfully taking his hand. "You will find someone else to love. I'm sure of it." She smiled thinly, and squeezed his hand. "A fine specimen like yourself will attract a new admirer with ease. Just you wait."

"If you say so, Emily," he muttered dejectedly, staring blankly into the distance.


	2. Chapter 2

George continued to feel out of sorts for days to come. No more did he attempt to visit Emily in the morgue for the pleasure of seeing her. The only times they would even speak- and nothing but cold civility here- was when he dropped off or picked up evidence or reports for Murdoch. However, at the end of this period there was one more conversation of note and it went like this:

"Emily, there's something I've been curious about," he said as he leaned against a wall, casually examining his fingernails.

"Yes?" she said, putting her pen aside.

"Well, I was thinking back on our past conversations and I seem to recall an inconsistency in your...story."

"Story, George?"

"Your predilection for...female companionship." Emily frowned but didn't respond to that so he continued. "This conversation took place over two years ago when a general store was bombed and Henry and I were injured. Do you remember that?"

"Of course, George, such events are hard to forget."

"I wonder if you also recall your attempt at making me uncomfortable about a certain topic."

She shook her head after a moments thought.

"You told me that Anarchists practised free love. They could do what they wanted...and _love_ who they wanted without worrying about societies perception of them."

There was a pause.

"I fail to see your point," she said stiffly.

"You seemed to know an _awful_ lot about it," he said, fully looking over at her for the first time. "Funny that someone who was hiding from their true nature would look into such matters in such detail."

"So now you are faulting me for being curious as well?" she enquired, throwing her hands up.

"That depends, Emily," he said studying her reaction closely, "did you only _read_ up on such matters, or did you do _more_ than that?"

She froze for a second and then glared at him. "Are you insinuating that I was fully aware of my disposition even then? That I had a tryst with a woman prior to you courting me?"

"Or during," he muttered darkly.

Emily's jaw dropped. George just stared at her. "Answer the question, Emily."

"Why should I?" she exclaimed angrily, crossing her arms on her chest. "You won't believe me one way or the other! It's clear you think I am absolute scum so why don't you just leave me be! I'm miserable enough as it is! I don't need your unfounded accusations as well!"

And then without warning she burst into tears and George became very uneasy with the situation. In all their time together, he had never once seen her shed a single tear. He had thought she was incapable of showing such weakness. So it was no wonder that this display jogged his heart into action, and ever the gallant one he pulled her upwards into his arms. She resisted at first but then oozed into him, sobbing wholeheartedly against his chest while he gently stroked her back.

"I apologize Emily, I should never have brought it up. I know you wouldn't have done that."

"Thank you for saying that, George," she said shakily. "But you're right to be distrustful of me, I treated you very ill. Your lack of faith is no more than I deserved."

He loosed his grip on her in order to observe her face. It was obvious to him that she was indeed suffering with the outcome of their conversation in the park. As a result, George allowed himself to feel more sympathetic to her plight.

The only reason why he could remain so level headed about this whole ordeal was that Dr. Ogden had come to speak with him in private the previous day and attempted to explain Emily's side of things better, as well as answer any questions he had had about sapphism. Dr. Ogden's knowledge of that topic had been a bit perplexing, especially since she had recently gotten engaged to Murdoch. In fact, it was a bit of a struggle not to be paranoid about all the women in his life but he would persevere the best he could.

After wiping away the tear tracks he said, "Certainly you behaved poorly, but I suppose things could have been worse. You could have agreed to marry me and forced us to live a lie the rest of our days. At least you spared me that much."

"Oh yes, I'm _very_ considerate," she said in a voice dripping with self loathing.

Unperturbed he proceeded in a similar vein."Your confession and this...transition couldn't have been very easy for you, Emily. I understand that now. If I had been in your position, I don't know that I would have acted any better. It's hardly proper for a constable to...fraternize with the same sex. Doing so would have gone against the very principles of the law I claim to uphold. I would have had to arrest myself." There was a pause and George smirked, "But it wouldn't have been the first time I got myself handcuffed."

Emily gave him an enquiring look.

"Didn't I ever tell you about the time Houdini ran amuck in the station house?" She shook her head and since this change in topic had served to calm her down somewhat he pursued it. "The inspector was in fits, Emily! He was beside himself with consternation! It was very amusing!"

And George proceeded to fill her in on all the details to that affair and by the end of it, and after several laughs, Emily's spirits seemed to be considerably altered.

"Thank you, George," she said quietly, embracing him tightly again, "I really needed that." She glanced up and said hesitantly, "I wish things could have been different between us..."

"As do I."

Still in that unusually timid manner, "And thank you for not informing anyone of my propensity. I would surely have been fired," she grimaced, "of that I have no doubt."

"Rest assured, Emily, your secrets safe with me." She gave him a grateful smile. "Well, I best be off. The wicked never sleep!"


End file.
